


It's Not Much of a Life You're Living

by Fox (Spacefoxen)



Series: Coming to Terms [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Spoilers, Gen, Grieving, I don't know what to tag this with, Jewish Character, Mourning, Natasha Is a Good Bro, Wanda is hurting, beginnings of a wonderful friendship, jewish customs, she's good at helping people too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 20:28:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4193787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spacefoxen/pseuds/Fox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the battle of Sokovia, Wanda finds herself in America without her home and her family. </p>
<p>A story of how Wanda learns to work with her loss, make new friends, and maybe find a new home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Not Much of a Life You're Living

**Author's Note:**

  * For [divisionten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/divisionten/gifts).



> Hey guys! So this story is *hopefully* part one of a larger arc exploring Wanda's character after AoU. I felt that there was a bit of a disconnect between the Wanda who loses her brother, and the Wanda in the final scene with the new Avengers team, and I hope to bridge that disconnect by exploring how Wanda comes back into her own.
> 
> I was a little disappointed that Marvel didn't address the character's cultural and religious history, but I guess I can understand why. SO. To fix that, Wanda here is Jewish and it is her religion and customs that help her come to terms with the loss of her brother.
> 
> This fic was written both for my pleasure and for one of my college courses, Gender and Sexuality In International Literature.
> 
> HUGE thanks to Divisionten, who without her help, I wouldn't have been able to get the Jewish aspects of this story correct at all. I can't thank you enough for your lovely work as Beta. Which is also why I'm gifting it to her.

Wanda sighed tiredly as she gazed out at the forests and fields surrounding the training facility. She was sitting on the edge of the roof, one leg drawn up to her chest, arms wrapped around it loosely. She watched disinterestedly as the new S.H.I.E.L.D. recruits drilled in the training fields. Pushing her hair away from her face, she rested her forehead on her knees and sighed again.

Wanda wasn’t sleeping.

It had been a week since the battle with Ultron; one week since she moved to the States with the rest of the Avengers; one week since the only home she remembered was destroyed in a pile of rubble.

One week since she lost her dear brother, Pietro.

She had nightmares every time she closed her eyes. They weren’t the same every night, but she saw similar things: Ultron’s lying face, the bodies of the dead, her brother shot down, the robot minions clawing their way to hurt her and her new friends. Worst of all, she relived her own part in the disaster over and over, knowing that the wheels she helped set in motion ultimately end with Pietro’s death.

Wanda tightened her arms around her knees in a vain effort to comfort herself. She was so tired and alone. America was so _big_ and _confusing_. She didn’t fit in and she didn’t even have her brother to help her with the adjustment. No snarky side remarks, no jokes, no softly murmured encouragements. Instead, she had nothing and no one.

“Maximoff?” Wanda barely twitched at the sound of the voice coming from behind her. Instead of turning around to face the speaker, she simply cocked her head slightly in acknowledgement.

“Sam’s made dinner for the team. Will you be joining us?”

Wanda rolled her head on her shoulders and glanced behind her. The Black Widow—Romanov—stood a few yards away, near the roof entrance. Dressed casually in civilian clothing, Wanda barely recognized her as the intense fighter from the battlefield.

Shrugging lightly, Wanda softly replied, “I suppose so.” She figured she should keep appearances up for these people; she had no way of knowing if her place here was guaranteed or not.

Romanov gave a slight nod, eyes knowing, and turned to make her way to the stairwell, not waiting to see if Wanda was following. Stretching, Wanda rose from her place at the edge of the roof and followed Romanov down the stairs.

~o0o~

Wanda pulled anxiously on the hem of the large sweater she was wearing. She stood just inside the large communal kitchen area, watching everyone move around each other with ease and relative familiarity.

The air smelled thickly of garlic and butter. A kind looking black man – Sam, Wanda guessed – was standing by the stove in front of two huge pots that bubbled and steamed. He laughed at something the Captain said as he walked behind him, carrying a huge bowl full of rich greens and other vegetables. The god Thor stood at the counter delicately cutting a loaf of bread. Barton sat on top of another counter, drinking from a bottle, while the rest of the team leaned against various other surfaces or sat at the table.

Wanda glanced cautiously at the other people she didn’t recognize. A tall strawberry blonde woman stood talking to Iron Man and the Iron Patriot, whom she met briefly after the battle. A formidable brunette was sitting, glass of wine in hand, conversing with an intimidating black man wearing an eye-patch.

“Agent Maria Hill and Nicholas ‘Nick’ Fury.” Wanda jumped slightly and looked to her left; Vision had walked up behind her ever more silently than Romanov had earlier. She had better start paying attention more to her surroundings, she thought to herself, or she was going to get into trouble.

Swallowing, Wanda turned back to the group in front of them. “The others?” she asked.

Softly, Vision pointed the new-comers out to her. “Sam ‘Falcon’ Wilson, Colonel James ‘Rhodey’ Rhodes, and Virginia ‘Pepper’ Potts.” He glanced down at Wanda, noting her nervous gaze and posture. “Shall we continue in and eat?”

Wanda looked up at Vision’s enquiring gaze and felt the corner of her mouth twitch up just a little; he was such a polite being. Quickly, she looked away and murmured softly, “Yes, let’s,” and led the way further into the busy room. She gave a mental pause when she thought she felt the brush of a hand on her lower back, but then shook the idea off.

She noiselessly made her way over to stand by Thor, watching as he continued to cut through the bread, placing each slice in a basket meant for the table.

Thor grinned at her, happy to be among friends. “Miss Maximoff! It is good of you to join us in celebration!”

Wanda cocked her head to the side. “Celebration of what?”

“Tony, the Man of Iron, says the new training facility has been finished and is now merely waiting for additional furnishings and its new residents! It will be good for Midgaurd to have yet more fine warriors capable of defending their fine realm.”

“Oh,” Wanda exhaled. That wasn’t really what she was expecting.

Thor glanced at her, a considering look in his eyes. He gestured lightly with the bread knife he still held in hand. “Would you like to help cut the bread?”

“No, thanks.” Wanda lightly shook her head, tucking her hands up under her arms. “What is Wilson cooking in the pots?”

“Ah. A fine meal of shelled creatures from the deep! I’ve partaken in them before and found them to be quite delightful. Have you had them?”

Shooting a look at the bubbling pots and Wilson happily gesturing around with a metal spoon, Wanda scrunched her nose up slightly. “No, I can’t say that I have…”

She shuffled over to stand by Wilson now, peering over the edge of the pots to see what was in them. The surface of the water bubbled and spit and was lightly coated in an oily sheen of melted butter. In the water, she was able to see the slightly blurry outline of small shelled things in one pot and large, red clawed creatures in the other. She shuffled back in mild disgust. People actually ate those things?

“What are they?” she asked Sam, who had turned to watch her look at the meal.

“Clams and Lobsters!” Sam supplied happily. “Have you not seen them before?”

Wanda shook her head, shot the pots another look, and moved back towards Thor. She glanced around the room again, and noticed Potts was making her way over to the counter.

“Hello! You must be Wanda!”

“Yes. And you’re…Ms. Potts?”

“Please, call me Pepper! How are you settling in, here? Do you need anything? I bet Tony hasn’t even asked…”

Blinking, Wanda stared at the tall blonde, a little startled by her bright friendliness and fast speech. “I’m fine, Ms—Pepper. I’m fine.”

“Good. You just let me know if you ever need anything or if these boys are causing you any grief, alright?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Come on, let’s take Thor’s giant basket of bread to the table. And could you grab those bottles of salad dressing there?”

Wanda grabbed the bottles off the counter, a little overwhelmed by the storm that was Pepper Potts. As she made her way to the table, Romanov walked over to help with some of the bottles (why they needed so many different kinds, Wanda would probably never know).

“Met Pepper, I see?”

“Yes. Is she always…?”

“Always a force of nature? You bet. She’s the only one who can keep Tony in line.”  Romanov glanced at Wanda, her eyes sweeping over Wanda’s face as though she could see right through her well-placed defenses; it made her uncomfortable. “So, what’s with the torn sweater?” Romanov asked casually.

Wanda’s steps faltered. She had been wondering if anyone was going to notice or comment on the torn hem of her sweater; of course the Black Widow would. “It’s—it was Pietro’s. It’s for _shivah_.” She bit her lip as she set the salad dressings on the table, hoping Romanov would let the topic slide. She looked up from under her lashes, trying to glimpse Romanov’s reaction. All she saw was compassion in the former assassin’s eyes, and the topic was indeed dropped. Wanda sighed gratefully.

Her moment of relief was quickly shattered by the hiss of steam and a string of curses.

“Fuck, damn shit damn, owww!”

Wanda whipped her head around and saw Wilson holding his stomach and laughing while Rogers glared and shook his hand viciously. As far as she could tell, Rogers had been attempting to pour the water out of one of the pots and managed to get a face full of very hot steam.

“You dork,” Wilson gasped, “you don’t _drain_ the clams, you just scoop them out into a separate bowl!”

“Now you tell me!”

Wilson tried to contain his laughter, “I thought you _knew,_ man.” He handed over a pair of tongs to Rogers. “Here, use these.” Still chuckling, Wilson grabbed an overly large spoon and then began to dish out the clams into a large white bowl. Rogers carefully moved the large, red lobsters into yet another bowl.

“Steve, you owe money to the swear jar!” Stark piped up from the seat he grabbed next to Hill.

“Oh, shut _up._ ” Steve mumbled good naturedly, smirk twisting his lips up to the side.

“No, really, you owe, like, twenty dollars or something from today alone.”

“Tony—“

“What, Pep? He does!”

As the banter continued between the three, other team members pitching in as plates were brought out and passed around, Wanda began to feel more and more out of place. She didn’t really understand their humor and knew that some of what was going on was part of an inside joke, but she really wasn’t feeling like a part of the group. Silently, she passed the plates around as they came to her until she had her own in front of her. Looking around the table at the large, happy looking crowed of people and their bowls and plates of food, Wanda felt anxious and upset.

She set her jaw determinedly, not wanting the others to catch on to her mood. Unnoticed by her, a flicker of red energy erupted from her finger tips and then dissipated.

Romanov, sitting to her right, passed the bowl of clams to Wanda. Wanda looked at the bowl in her hands and noticed that in the shells were slimy looking balls of…goo. She had no other word for it. Wrinkling her nose at them once again, she began to pass the bowl over to Vision on her left.

Rogers, sitting diagonally across from her, noticed she hadn’t taken any of the shellfish.

“You’re not going to try any?”

Wilson piped up next, “Aww come on! At least give one a try!”

Wanda shook her head, handing the bowl off to Vision.

“There’s plenty for everyone, Hermione,” Stark supplied next.

Wanda shot Stark a glare. “I _cannot_ have them. They’re not kosher.”

The table went silent for a second, and Wanda wanted to disappear. Idly, she considered experimenting with her powers to see if it was possible.

“Oh, shoot, I’m sorry, Wanda!”

“Do you want me to make you something else?”

“Why didn’t anyone think to ask if everyone ate clams and lobster?”

“I’m fine!” Wanda spoke up over the clamoring voices of the team. Quieter, she said, “It’s fine. I can have salad and bread. It is no problem.” Energy sparked from her clenched fists sitting in her lap.

Rogers looked like he wanted to protest, but Barton jabbed him in the side with his elbow to get him to keep quiet. Thankfully, Rogers closed his mouth and nodded, while Barton rubbed his elbow with a look of mild pain on his face.

Conversation resumed slowly, and Wanda slowly began to relax. She passed the lobsters along with the same mild aversion that she had the clams and noticed that Vision hadn’t taken any of the clams and wasn’t planning on taking any lobster, either.

 “Are you not hungry?”

“I’m…simply not sure that I should be eating at all.” Vision’s face turned thoughtful. “And even if this body could process any kind of food, the shellfish doesn’t particularly strike my fancy, anyway.”

Wanda smiled softly, digging through the large bowl of salad that Rogers had put together and that Romanov had just handed to her. There were carrots, cucumbers, red onions, croutons, and a variety of other vegetables that Wanda couldn’t be bothered to name right then. She heaped the salad on her plate and passed the bowl to Vision. Looking at the collection of dressings on the table, she was pleased to see a bottle of olive oil and one of balsamic vinegar. 

As she began to pick at her salad, she watched as the Avengers tucked into their own meals. The longer she watched, the more she lost her own appetite and the more her anxiety increased.

Clams were tipped out of their shells and slurped down audibly. Butter dribbled down chins before being hastily wiped away by a forearm. The cracking of lobster tails made her twitch as the front portion of the lobster was removed from the back. The meat from those, too, was swallowed down after being generously dipped in butter.

The whole situation was utterly foreign to her. No one really bothered with forks or knives, and napkins were used when the butter got to be too much on their hands.

It hit Wanda very suddenly just how _alone_ she was and just how far from home she now found herself.

Her hands began to tremble, causing some of the salad on her fork to drop back to her plate. She sat the fork down abruptly, afraid she’d drop it. She stared at her plate blankly, trying to take deep breaths like Pietro showed her so she could calm down.

Loud, sudden laughter from across the table caused Wanda to startle violently. Her barely suppressed powers surged up in defense, causing Wanda to lash out blindly in front of her.

A shout and a sharp crash of a dropped bowl brought Wanda back to herself. When she lowered her raised hands and opened her eyes (since when did she have them closed?), Wanda was horrified by the scene in front of her.

Barton was covered in dripping butter and slimey clams. Her sudden burst of power had shot into the bowl of the left over clams, causing it to shoot across the table and tip its contents out on the archer.

“Aww, clams…” Barton sighed, looking down at himself in resignation. Everyone else went from looking at Clint to looking at Wanda.

Wanda’s trembling intensified under the scrutiny. She scrambled from her chair, causing the legs to screech across the tile in her haste, and bolted from the dining area as fast as possible.

As she ran to her assigned room, her thoughts raced.

They were going to kick her out.

She didn’t have as much control over her powers as she thought.

She was useless and would only bring more, and worse, chaos to the group, much like she already had.

Pietro would be ashamed of her.

That last thought wasn’t fair, on both her and her brother, but she couldn’t help thinking it. She messed up. Again. And she would continue to mess up until the Avengers couldn’t handle it anymore and then where would she be? Even more alone than she already was.

Wanda slipped into her room, slammed the door shut, and sank to the floor. Wrapping her arms around herself, she curled her body up as small as she could and cried.

Not long after the first few tears fell, Wanda heard someone outside her door.

“Ms. Maximoff? Wanda? Are you well?” Vision’s softly accented voice came through the door, concern evident in his tone.

“Go away, Vision,” Wanda croaked.

“Are you—“

“Go. Away!” This last outburst was accompanied by a slam of her hand on her door. Red energy pulsed around her palm, sparking out around the door and curling under the edges. Wanda hastily pulled her hand back and clutched it to her chest. She certainly didn’t want to cause more trouble by causing Vision harm.

From the other side of the door, Wanda picked up on a second, softer voice.

“Come on, Vision. Let her be. She needs to cool off.” It was Romanov.

Wanda heard the shuffle of feet as the two retreated from her door. Their voices started again, less distinct this time, and more of a mumble.

When she could no longer hear them, Wanda pulled herself to her feet and walked unsteadily toward her bed. Once there, she fell onto the mattress and curled up into a tight ball, hoping for sleep, but knowing it would not come.

~o0o~

Wanda woke up from a fitful sleep; she couldn’t remember slipping into sleep, but she obviously had. Mid cat-like stretch, she froze. Her eyes grew wide as she realized what had caught her attention: she felt the brush of another mind on her own. A very familiar mind.

It felt like Pietro.

Wanda sat up quickly in her bed, hands rushing to her temples as she sought to shut off her powers. She was so used to feeling her brother’s mind and thoughts and she missed the sensation so much that she had subconsciously used her powers on herself, making her hallucinate the feel of her dear brother.

Powers shut off, Wanda pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes and fought off the tears threatening to fall.

Wanda sniffled a few times and wiped her nose on her forearm. Sitting in her bed, hair sleep tousled and sticking out everywhere, she felt downright miserable. She wrapped her arms around her knees and set her chin on top, staring off at the wall across from her bed. The day didn’t interest her at all and she desperately hoped that the Avengers would leave her be today. She didn’t feel like doing anything or talking to anyone and that if she had to do either of those things, she’d lose it.

She still felt ashamed of her loss of control from the night before; there was no reason for that outburst to have happened. Now she’d never be able to look Barton in the eye, angry or not. God, she was so embarrassed. Now they’d probably never let her stay on the team and then where would she be?

After spending a good half hour just staring into blank space at nothing, Wanda sighed and shifted her position. She needed to get a hold of herself. Moping around wasn’t going to get her or anyone else anywhere. What she really needed to be doing was practicing her spells. Maybe with the occasional release of power, the outbursts and flickers would decrease in frequency. The practice would certainly giver her better control over her powers.

New goal in mind, Wanda determinedly set her jaw and got comfortable on the bed. She decided to start with basic telekinesis and then move on to the more complicated illusions and matter manipulations.

Looking around her room, Wanda’s eye caught on one of her jackets that she had carelessly tossed on the floor; it would work perfectly as a test subject, seeing as how it was soft and light weight. She shouldn’t be able to cause much damage with a piece of fabric. She hoped.

Flicking her wrists, Wanda raised her hands up to shoulder level and crooked her fingers, focusing on the jacket on her bedroom floor. She didn’t want to do anything drastic, just move it across the floor and maybe onto the back of a chair. She hadn’t ever been this specific with her abilities, and certainly hadn’t used them for much more than some form of terror or destruction, so she really had no idea if she could even do this.

Concentrating, Wanda imagined the jacket slowly moving across her bedroom floor. She flared her fingers and projected her thoughts outward. The jacket jerked across the floor, smacking into the wall on the opposite side of where it had originally sat. Wanda flinched at the sound of the zipper clashing on the wall. Perhaps she was focusing too intently and she needed to soften her thoughts.

Narrowing her eyes, Wanda once again focused on the jacket, this time not projecting her thoughts nearly as hard. The jacket scuttled across the floor, stopping and starting in a jerky fashion. Wanda flicked her index finger at the offending piece of clothing and focused just a little more on getting it to move. The jacket slid smoothly across the carpet, not too fast or too slow.

After getting it to circle her room twice at a steady rate, Wanda relaxed and grinned triumphantly. She was learning more control! She imagined Pietro would be proud of her small accomplishment and her smile softened a little.

Nodding to herself, she got resettled and decided to try a variety of increasingly harder tasks involving the jacket. With luck, things would go smoothly and she would feel a bit more in control over her abilities.

~o0o~

A few hours later, Wanda had successfully managed to make the jacket hover and fly gently through the air and even succeeded in getting it to hang itself up on a hanger. That was the most difficult task she had accomplished, as she had to manipulate both the hanger and the jacket with intent. But she had done it.

Deciding to stop for the day, Wanda realized she her stomach was growling in hunger. She scrunched her nose in annoyance, not looking forward to the probability of running into one of the team while she looked for something to eat.

As she continued to sit on her bed, contemplating the possibility of using her powers to get a loaf of bread into her room without ever actually leaving it, a knock sounded on her door.

Wanda sighed. Of course it was too much to ask for a full day to herself.

“Wanda? Are you in there?” Romanov’s voice came from the other side of the closed door. At least it wasn’t Barton. Or Vision. Wanda wasn’t sure what she would do if it was Vision. She’d likely just yell if it was Barton.

“Yes,one second.” Wanda shuffled off her bed. It wasn’t until she was about to open the door that she realized she was still wearing her clothes from the night before. She sighed again and shrugged, deciding she didn’t really care at the moment.

Wanda pulled the door open slightly and poked her head out to look at Romanov.

“Yes?”

“Come eat with me.”

Wanda blinked. “What?”

“Come grab something to eat with me.” Romanov shrugged and looked at Wanda indifferently, as though she didn’t care what Wanda’s answer might be. “I know you haven’t been out of your room all day, so you likely haven’t eaten anything.”

Wanda bit her lip. Romanov wasn’t wrong.

Before she could answer properly, her stomach decided to put in its own two cents.

The corner of Romanovs mouth quirked up slightly. “Come on. Let’s get something in your stomach.”

Wanda fidgeted for a second before relenting. “May I change my clothes first?”

“Of course. I’ll just wait here until you are ready.”

Wanda slid back into her room, door closing softly behind her. She leaned against the door briefly, eyes closed, breathing deeply. She could do this. It was just dinner with Romanov. No big deal.

Stealing herself, Wanda pushed off the door and began to change out of her day old clothes. She slid into a pair of black leggings and contemplated her choice of shirts. She carefully selected one of her brother’s old t-shirts, the neck line already carefully torn a few days before.

Fingering the fabric, Wanda brought the soft, warn shirt to her nose and inhaled. Her brother’s scent still lingered in the fabric, though it was quickly fading. Wanda sighed and slipped the baggy shirt on, making her way back to Romanov.

Romanov’s eyes darted subtly to take in Wanda’s appearance. Catching the brief inspection, Wanda raised her chin slightly. Romanov just smiled lightly and turned to lead Wanda toward the kitchen.

As they made their way down the hallways, Romanov began to speak quietly.

“After last night—“ Wanda tensed slightly and Romanov shot her a quick glance and continued. “After last night, Pepper and I had a talk. We decided to cook you a dinner tonight; we realized that none of us were being particularly supportive of you during your time of grieving.

Wanda stared at Romanov. They had cooked for her? Romanov was still talking, though, so Wanda gave herself a mental shake and listened.

“The guys all helped prepare something, but we decided to keep things quieter than last night and just have a girls’ night.”

Wanda was so surprised at Romanov’s words that it took her a moment to process the scents drifting to her from the kitchen. When she recognized the smells, her eyes teared up.

“You…you made my foods.” Wanda looked at Romanov in awe and gratitude.

“We did. Come. The food will just be finishing.”

Wanda followed Romanov in a daze, wondering at the apparent kindness of her new team. They weren’t treating her with contempt and upset like she suspected they would after her accident the night before. Instead, they were making food from her home, making it just for her to help her adjust. She couldn’t believe it.

Stepping into the kitchen, the tears in Wanda’s eyes fell, her chest filling with a warm glow. On the counters, the women had placed various dished from her homeland, including kasha, borscht, latkes, pierogi, among a multitude of others.

Romanov stepped up beside her, hand on her shoulder. “Let me introduce the girls. Pepper and Maria you know. The one in the glasses is Darcy and the brunette is Jane, Thor’s girlfriend.”

Darcy waved at them, mouth full of potato dumpling as she attempted to say hello. Jane smacked Darcy’s shoulder, a fond smile on her face, and made her way over to Romanov and Wanda.

She extended her hand, kind smile on her face. “Hi, Wanda, it’s nice to meet you! Thor’s told me quite a bit about you since you guys have been back.”

The team had been talking about her? Wanda shook Jane’s hand, a light blush covering her cheeks.

Darcy finally managed to get the mouthful of dumpling down and practically skipped her way over to join the conversation.

“Hi! I’m Darcy.” Before Wanda could respond, Darcy was off, talking a mile a minute. “Your name is Wanda, right? Thor was saying you have some sort of mental powers going on and that you can manipulate matter and can you also manipulate reality or is that too much? Can you fly?”

Wanda stared at Darcy, eyes wide, and then looked to Romanov for help. Natasha rolled her eyes and pushed Darcy away and back towards the food.”

“Darcy, shut up and let Wanda relax and settle in. And maybe let her get something to eat before you eat everything.”

Pepper then approached Wanda and gave her a gentle hug, apologizing for both Darcy’s motor mouth and the incident from the night before, as though it was her fault the meal was a disaster.

Wanda returned the hug lightly, a bit in shock over the casual and welcoming attitudes of these women. It has been a long time since she had experienced such kindness.

Pepper lead her over to the food on the counter, where Maria then passed over a plate and offered Wanda a small smile. Wanda returned it and took the plate, turning to consider the spread of food before her.

Tears welled up in her eyes again as she took in all the familiar foods from home. These people, who barely knew her, noticed her distress last night. And instead of reprimanding her for her actions, decided to offer her comfort and a taste of home.

Wanda ducked her head to hide her distress and started piling food onto her plate. The other women followed her example, heaping food onto their plates and talking quietly amongst themselves. They moved into the small sitting area off to the side of the kitchen instead of opting for the dining table.

Wanda began to relax as the evening wore on. The food was amazing, if not exactly like what she was used to, and the conversations relatively light and mostly about her new teammates. She laughed as Darcy and Jane explained how they met Thor by crashing their research truck into him in the middle of the desert. She felt guilty for using Starks’s fears for her own agenda when she heard Pepper talk about Tony’s experience as a hostage. She learned a little about Barton’s time under mind control and Romanov talked about his family and how they had taken her in when she first join S.H.E.I.L.D. despite her past.

The more she learned about her team through the reminiscing of these women, the more Wanda began to see them in a new light, and the more she realized just how understanding they were. Of course they weren’t going to blame her for her actions the night before; they all had their own problems and had difficulty dealing with them themselves.

As she came to that realization, Wanda surprised herself by breaking into the conversation for the first time to talk about growing up with Pietro.

She talked about running through the streets to the market vendors, rough housing with the other kids, helping her mother clean the house and cook their meals. It didn’t hurt as much as she thought it would to talk about such things. Instead, her chest filled with a warm glow and she chuckled as she recalled some of Pietro’s stunts and pranks. Eventually her laughter died and she talked quietly about how she lost her parents and about the Stark Industries bomb that nearly killed her and her brother when they were ten.

She glanced up at Pepper when she told this tale, wondering how she’d react to the information that her boyfriend was responsible for the death of her family; she saw in Pepper’s eyes a deep sadness and understanding.

Pepper leaned forward and rested her hand on Wanda’s knee.

“Tony feels awful for the death and destruction his weapons once caused.” Pepper smiled slightly. “He’s doing everything he can to right the wrongs he feels he committed, even at the potential cost of his own life. I hope you don’t hold his past too much against him.”

Wanda considered Pepper. Their eyes met and she saw the sincerity in Pepper’s words.

“I’ll do my best.”

After that, conversation turned to lighter things once more and the room soon sounded with the laughter and jokes of the group of women. Wanda felt comfortable amongst them and lighter now that she had shared stories of her brother. It felt good to talk about him.

Eventually, Pepper, Maria, Darcy, and Jane excused themselves, bellies full of good food and wine. Only Romanov and Wanda remained.

Romanov walked over to where Wanda was still sitting on one of the couches, wine glass in hand. She sat down next to the still slightly overwhelmed brunette and turned toward her.

“Ms. Romanov—“

“Natasha. Call me Natasha,” Romanov—Natasha—corrected quietly.

“Natasha, I have no words. Thank you for setting up this night for me. It was…something I think I greatly needed.”

Natasha smiled and leaned over to give Wanda’s hair a light tousle. “It wasn’t a problem, _malyutka,_ little one. The team is here for you. It’s what we do: we take care of what is ours. And you’re now on the team, so that includes you.”

Wanda smiled and leaned into Natasha, head on the red-head’s shoulder. They sat in comfortable silence for a while.

Natasha eventually broke that silence. “Wanda…Did you ever light candles on Friday night for the _Shabbat_? Even when it was just you and your brother?”

Wanda blinked at the sudden topic. “Yes. I did my best to light one for both me and my brother. Sometimes I wasn’t able to, but I did what I could.”

“Would you like to start lighting them again?”

Wanda sat up and stared at Natasha. “Yes. Yes I would.”

Natasha smiled. “It’s a good thing I picked up a few candles, then.”

Natasha got up to retrieve the candles and matches she had purchased earlier that day, along with two small saucers from the kitchen cabinets. Wanda watched eagerly, excited to have one more custom brought back to her. Natasha brought the candles, matches, and saucers back to the couch, setting them gently on the coffee table in front of them.

“You’ll have to lead me,” Natasha said to Wanda. “I only know about this custom from what I found when I looked up things that you might be missing.”

“Gladly.”

Wanda sat up straight on the couch and picked up the matches. Striking one, she stared at the tiny flame and handed the box over to Natasha.

“Just follow my lead. I’ll say the blessing.”

She lit the wick of her candle and watched as Natasha lit hers. Wanda then gestured over the candles with her hands and then covered her eyes. She then began to recite the blessing in Hebrew, her voice shaking slightly over the long used words.

“ _Baruch ata Adonai, elohenu melech ha’olam, asher kidishanu b’mitzvotav vitzivanu l’hadlich neir shel Shabbat kodesh”_

After she finished the blessing, eyes still closed, Wanda paused to give up a silent prayer God, thanking him for her life and the life of her new friends and asking Him for comfort in her time of mourning. She opened her eyes and saw Natasha looking at her, eyes soft. Wanda smiled at her in return, and then turned back to the candles to stare into the flames. Natasha followed her example, and they say together watching the flickering light for some time.

As Wanda stared into the candles’ light, she realized she felt, if not happy, content. Her chest didn’t ache as much, she had had a good time tonight with the women of the team. She felt that she had a friend in Natasha Romanov, and that, in time, she would be able to make more friends. A slow grin grew on her face at the thought, and she knew she would be alright.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I do have at least two other parts planned for this, one with Clint and his family, and other with Vision. I have no idea when I'll have the chance to write them, as I have both school and work to deal with. The only reason this part is so long and and was written so fast was because I was able to use it as a class assignment!
> 
> Comments are GREATLY appreciated!!  
> Come find me on Tumblr at attagirlblue!


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